


Start with a Hug

by SlantedKnitting



Series: big bangs and challenges [14]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Marijuana, Modern Era, Recreational Drug Use, Skin Hunger, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 16:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlantedKnitting/pseuds/SlantedKnitting
Summary: Merlin hasn't been in a relationship for nearly two years. He hasn't been on a single date in that time, and he's starting to realise he may not even have gotten a hug from a friend in that time. That makes it difficult to keep his composure when he finally scores a date with Arthur.





	Start with a Hug

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Merthur Touch Fest](https://artypendragon.livejournal.com/9432.html) focusing on touch deprivation/skin hunger.

Merlin took a long hit off his pipe and held it in as long as he could before exhaling with a cough. He was most of the way through the bowl, and he was starting to feel it. He was relaxed—more relaxed than he had been lately, at least. He was loose. He was a little giggly for no reason. He was happy.

He finished off the bowl and then flopped down on his sofa, stretching out across the cushions and shuffling over so he was almost sucked into the crack between the seats and the back. He felt secure, surrounded, and warm.

He felt lonely as hell, cuddling with a fucking sofa.

Letting those thoughts drift away, Merlin took off his shirt and ran his hands over his chest and then his stomach. He was a little ticklish, his skin not use to that kind of contact, and everything was sparking to life under his fingertips.

How long had it been since someone else had touched him in this way?

How long had been since he'd even touched himself in this way?

Normally, if he did touch himself—if he wasn't busy, wasn't stressed, wasn't sleeping—it was a practical affair. No foreplay, no teasing, just straight to the point. It was easy, it was fast, it was what he could handle.

Tonight, though, he wanted more. Merlin shucked his jeans and pants off and went into his room. He crawled under the covers, letting them surround and warm him, and then he reached for his dick.

It jerked against his palm, eager, and Merlin gave it a few strokes before moving both his hands to his thighs. He rubbed them slowly, relishing in the way his muscles tensed and his hairs stood on end and his cock grew harder in response to the touch.

When he could stand it, couldn't wait another second, couldn't breath with how badly he wanted it, he wrapped his hand back around his dick.

He was already close. He wouldn't last long, not with the way he was working himself up.

Taking another break, Merlin moved his hands back up to his chest and brushed his thumbs over his nipples. He gasped, and they pebbled quickly, straining for more. He pinched them, rolled them between his fingers, pulled and tugged and tweaked. He could feel his cock throbbing in response, seeking friction up against the sheets, begging to be touched.

Giving in, Merlin reached down and pulled on himself until the very last second, and then he kicked off the sheets as he came over his chest. The cold air was a shock, as was the hot come splashing onto his skin, and he shuddered.

He continued stroking himself long after it grew to be too much, hanging onto the feeling of warmth and intimacy. He felt connected to his body in a way he didn't normally, and he didn't want to lose that.

Keeping one hand on his dick, Merlin reached over and got some tissues off his nightstand. He cleaned himself up as best he could, and then he turned off the light, rolled over, and, still holding onto himself, drifted off to sleep.

~~~~

"How long has it been since your late date?" Freya asked from where she was sat at Merlin's table. She was playing a card game with herself, having gotten bored watching Merlin play a video game.

"Dunno," Merlin said, which was a lie. He hadn't seen anyone since Freya had broken up with him, and that had been nearly two years ago. He didn't know why she thought that was any of her business, though.

"You should get back out there. You never know, maybe you'll find a keeper."

Merlin said nothing, keeping his eyes firmly on the telly as he played through his game. He knew she was talking about Morgana, her girlfriend. They'd been together for almost a year, and apparently things were going well.

Merlin kind of hated to be around them. He wasn't jealous—he was over Freya, and he was glad to see her so happy, even if it was with someone other than him. It was just that, every time he hung out with them, he felt a pang in his chest that he didn't have someone like that. He didn't have anyone who made him happy, he didn't have someone to be cute with, he didn't have a partner. Because Freya and Morgana were partners in the truest sense of the word. They were equals, they supported each other, they lifted each other up to be the best versions of themselves. Merlin had never seen Freya so happy, so in love, and it was sickening.

"Seriously," Freya said, looking over at him. "I'm starting to get worried about you."

Merlin snorted. "You're worried because I haven't gone on a date lately?"

"I'm worried because you seem lonely."

Merlin had nothing to say to that. He wasn't going to admit anything, especially not to his very taken ex-girlfriend.

~~~~

To demonstrate their disgusting love, Freya and Morgana celebrated their one-year anniversary with a picnic in the park, and they invited all their friends.

Merlin came very close to turning down the invitation, but, in the end, Freya was one of his best friends, and he was happy for her, and he wanted to show his support.

He still arrived fashionably late, strolling up when the party was already in full swing. Freya waved him over, and he sat down next to her on the blanket and helped himself to some pasta salad.

It was a fun picnic. There was good food and stupid games and lots of Freya and Morgana's friends. Morgana's brother, Arthur, had even made an appearance. Merlin had heard a lot about him—about how he was being groomed to run the family company even though Morgana felt she should have been chosen to step into leadership, about how he was a selfish git, about how he thought he was God's Gift to Women—but he didn't seem like anything Morgana had told him. He seemed perfectly nice.

He also seemed perfectly gay, and Merlin wondered how Morgana had missed the signs. He kept making eyes at Merlin, and, eager for an excuse to abandon his post near the happy couple, Merlin stood and made his way over to where Arthur was standing near the desserts.

"Hey," he said, giving a wave. "Arthur, right?"

Arthur nodded. "Yeah. I'm Morgana's brother."

"I know. I'm Merlin. I'm… friends with Freya."

Arthur gave him a look like he knew the truth, but he didn't say anything about. Instead, he bent down and picked up a frisbee from the blanket. He raised an eyebrow, and Merlin shrugged, walking away until he thought he was at an appropriate frisbee-throwing distance.

Arthur tossed it, and it came straight to Merlin. Merlin caught it easily with one hand and chucked it back, making Arthur run to catch it. It was going to be a very lopsided game—Arthur seemed athletic, like he probably played sports all the time, and Merlin was more of an indoor guy. He liked video games and books and cooking. He hadn't played a sport in what felt like ages. The closest was probably that one time he and Freya had gone mini-golfing, but that had been ages ago.

Despite Merlin's inability to throw the frisbee in a straight line, Arthur seemed to be having a good time. It didn't look like he minded having to run to catch Merlin's throws.

The two of them moved gradually farther away from the group until they had enough space to play a proper game. Merlin was slightly better over a longer distance, but Arthur seemed to be a little worse. His throws kept curving to the left, forcing Merlin to jog a little to catch them.

Merlin found that he didn't mind, either. He liked the excuse to move around, to get a little sweaty. It was more entertaining than sitting next to Freya, listening to her go on about a concert she and Morgana had been to the weekend before.

He liked the excuse to spend time with Arthur, even if they weren't talking. Arthur was nice to look at, especially out in the sun where his blond hair and tanned skin looked at home. Not to mention his muscles, which were on full display as he ran around and tossed the frisbee. Morgana had never mentioned that her annoying brother was actually just annoyingly gorgeous.

"ARTHUR!" someone called.

Even though Merlin had just made a throw, Arthur turned to look at the picnickers, and the frisbee hit him in the back of the head.

"Shit—SORRY!" Merlin called out, running over.

Arthur rubbed the back of his head as he went back to the picnic, waving off Merlin's apologies.

"Do you have any idea how long you two have been doing that?" Morgana asked. She was laying down with her head in Freya's lap, and Freya was playing with her hair.

"So?" Arthur asked.

"So." Morgana gestured around, and Merlin realised that everyone else had gone. He and Arthur were the only guests left.

Arthur just rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Morgana." He turned and accepted the frisbee from Merlin. "Thanks."

"Sure," Merlin said, not really wanting the day to be over. "Thanks for playing with me."

Arthur flashed him a smile, and Merlin mirrored it easily. He wished he could ask for Arthur's number, but he figured he shouldn't do it in front of Morgana, especially if she was oblivious to Arthur's preferences.

"I have to go get ready for dinner," Arthur said, checking his watch. "See you Monday?" he said to Morgana.

Morgana nodded, and Arthur gave Merlin a wave before heading off.

"He's a right prat, isn't he?" Morgana asked.

Merlin shrugged. "Seems fine to me."

Morgana pretended to be offended. Freya just smirked. Merlin waved goodbye and took himself home, tired in a satisfying sort of way. It had been a long time since he'd met someone new, and, even if he never got to see Arthur again, it had been a good day.

When he got home, he opened up his laptop and saw that Arthur had sent him a friend request on Facebook.

~~~~

 **Arthur**  
Hey! Thanks for playing frisbee with me the other day - I was so bored until then

 **Merlin**  
Of course! I had a good time :)

 **Arthur**  
I'm glad  
Would you be interested in getting dinner sometime?

 **Merlin**  
Definitely

~~~~

Arthur greeted Merlin with a wave outside the restaurant on Friday night. Merlin was nervous. It had been so long since he'd been on a date, and significantly longer since he'd been on a first date, and he had no idea what to expect.

Arthur didn't seem nervous at all, though. He was smiling, and he looked confident, as if he went on first dates all the time. Maybe he did. He was an attractive, charismatic man—he probably got asked out all the time. Yet, somehow, he was single. Single and apparently interested in Merlin.

"Can I ask a question?" Merlin asked once they were settled at their table with menus. "Just to check what I might be getting myself into."

Arthur shrugged. "Sure. Go ahead."

"Are you… out to your family?"

Arthur looked amused. "I am. Why?"

"Morgana may have said something along the lines of you thinking you're God's gift to women."

Arthur just laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like something she'd say. I tend to date women, but she knows I'm bi. What about you?"

"Bi, as well."

Arthur nodded and glanced down at his menu. "What else has she said about me?"

"That you're about to take over the family business."

"Of course she'd mention that as well," Arthur said, looking a little harassed. "She knows perfectly well I’m promoting her as soon as Dad retires."

"Oh—you are? She didn't mention."

"She wouldn't." Arthur rolled his eyes. "She likes to paint me as the bad guy."

"Are you the bad guy?"

Arthur smiled softly, and Merlin tried not to stare at his lips.

"I try not to be," Arthur said. "What about you? Any stupid family drama?"

Merlin shook his head. "It's just me and Mum. We get along, so… nothing especially exciting to report. Siblings sound scary."

"Morgana specifically is scary," Arthur said. He launched into a long tale about something she'd done at work the previous week.

Merlin listened, amused, as Arthur kept them entertained with story upon story of Morgana being ridiculous, and, before he was ready for it, they were both done with their dinners. Arthur insisted on paying, saying he was the one who invited Merlin out and that Merlin could return the favour next time.

Merlin liked the idea of a next time. Arthur was good company. And he was good to look at, although Merlin tried very hard not to get his hopes up. He knew it was unlikely anything would happen on a first date.

When they left the restaurant, they loitered outside for a bit, discussing their meals and the wines they'd had.

"So, I…" Arthur finally said, looking unhappy. "I guess this is the part where we say goodbye."

Merlin nodded his agreement even though he didn't want the night to end.

"Next time, yeah?" Arthur asked, holing out his hand.

Merlin shook it, and the simple touch sparked through him. "Next time," he agreed. He hurried home and got straight into the shower, turning on the water as hot as he could stand.

His body felt like it was on fire, and it wasn't from the heat of the stream he was subjecting himself to. His hand was tingling, he felt alive all over—just from a simple handshake. Or maybe it wasn't that simple. It had meant something, that handshake. It was a promise of next time, of more to come. It was a promise of more of Arthur.

Merlin scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to get a grip. He was losing it. He had reached a new low. A fucking handshake had reduced him to a hot, trembling mess. How much more lonely could he get?

When he couldn't stand the water anymore, Merlin got out of the shower and dried off quickly so he could get into his pyjamas. He pulled the sheets off the bed and wrapped himself up in them before climbing on his mattress and drifting off to the feeling of being surrounded.

~~~~

The next weekend, Merlin found himself at Arthur's flat, being treated to some of Arthur's home cooking. They were supposed to be at Merlin's favourite restaurant so that Merlin could pay for the evening, but Arthur had changed his mind at the last minute, saying he'd rather stay in and do something quiet. Merlin had agreed, not thinking much of it, but now he was starting to regret it.

It was so much more intimate being in Arthur's flat than it was being at some restaurant. They were moving around each other, circling each other, being so careful to keep up with the notion of personal space.

Merlin was going out of his mind. Every time Arthur stepped close, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end in anticipation. His whole body would go on alert, rooting him to the spot and making it impossible to breathe. Then Arthur would step away again, and Merlin would exhale.

It was a terrible dance. By the time dinner was ready, Merlin was at his wit's end. He needed to get control of himself, and he needed to get home without making a fool out of himself. He clearly needed a few more pot-induced touchy-feeling wanking sessions if this was how he was reacting to what actually amounted to literally no contact from Arthur.

"All right?" Arthur asked halfway through their meal when Merlin had gone quiet, trying to control himself from a particularly steamy look Arthur had just given him.

"Mhm," Merlin managed.

Arthur smiled uneasily and went back to his pasta.

"Sorry," Merlin said, feeling guilty and ridiculous and out of control. "I'm just… nervous."

"Why are you nervous?"

"I haven't… it's been a long time since I've been on any dates," Merlin admitted.

"You went on a date last week," Arthur pointed out.

"I mean before that."

Arthur shrugged. "Don't be nervous. I promise I won't bite. Unless you want me to."

Merlin flushed and stared down at his plate, trying to come up with anything to say in response to that.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked quietly. "How long is a long time?"

"Like…" Merlin took a deep breath and looked up. "Two years?"

Arthur smiled, looking relieved. "That's no so bad. The way you're all worked up about it, I thought you were going to say like a decade."

"Feels like a decade," Merlin muttered. Arthur laughed. "Anyway, I'm… just out of practice, I guess."

"You weren't this nervous last week," Arthur pointed out.

"We were out in public last week," Merlin said. "This is a very different atmosphere."

Arthur smirked. "I suppose you're right. If you're worried about what's going to happen after, I can just tell you."

"After what?"

"After dinner. I was planning to kiss you." Merlin fought back a shiver. "If that's all right."

"That's—" Merlin couldn't truthfully say it would be all right. He had no idea what would happen if Arthur kissed him. His bones might melt right out of body.

"Or I could not," Arthur offered. "If that's too soon."

"No, it's…" Merlin sighed and took a sip of the wine Arthur had poured for him. "I've sort of been coming to the realisation that it's actually been a little too long since I've been with anyone. Like… in any capacity. I can't even remember the last time I got a hug."

"A hug?" Arthur asked, looking alarmed.

"I can't honestly promise I won't have a melt down if you kiss me." Merlin swallowed and drained the rest of his wine. "So, sorry to completely freak out on you. I can let myself out."

He stood, and, too his horror, Arthur followed him to the door. Merlin tried to open it, and Arthur reached out and grabbed his wrist to stop him.

His hand was warm, his fingers long and curled around his skin, and Merlin wanted to run.

"Hey," Arthur said quietly, shifting to stand behind Merlin. He pressed his chest to Merlin's back, and Merlin gasped, his heart pounding up somewhere near his throat.

"We can start with a hug," Arthur whispered, and then he wrapped his arms around Merlin's front and rested his chin on Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin was dying. He was pretty sure he was shaking. His skin was singing where Arthur had grabbed his wrist. His chest was aching where Arthur's arms were wrapped around him. His breathing was ragged, his head was spinning, and everything was much, much too much.

"All right?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shook his head, and Arthur stepped back, leaving him bereft.

He pressed his forehead to the door and took a deep breath. He needed to leave before he embarrassed himself any further.

Arthur took Merlin's wrist again, and then he dragged his fingers up Merlin's arm, slowly, painfully slowly. Merlin closed his mouth around a moan, letting it come out as a hum. Arthur, apparently taking that as a sign of encouragement, did the same with Merlin's other arm until both his hands were on Merlin's shoulders. He pressed his forehead to the nape of Merlin's neck, and his breath ghosted down Merlin's back.

"Fuck," Merlin breathed. He needed air. He needed something to anchor him back to reality. He needed an ice bath to get his body to stop feeling like it was aflame.

"All right?" Arthur asked, his voice soft and low.

Merlin took a shaky breath and nodded.

Arthur lifted his head and pressed a kiss to Merlin's neck, and Merlin's knees threatened to give out. Heat blossomed out from that spot on his neck, and he could feel himself going impossibly red. His back was hot, his neck was hot, his face was hot—it felt like he might ignite at the next move.

"Hey," Arthur said again. He grabbed Merlin's wrist, and this time he turned Merlin around. Merlin leaned against the door, trying to breath normally as Arthur looked at him with what should have been derision or maybe concern but was actually something softer, something warmer.

"It has been a long time, hasn't it?" Arthur said.

"I'm sorry," Merlin choked out. "I just—"

"Don't apologise. I'm sorry no one's been there for you. I'd like to try to be. Can we do a proper hug?"

He waited for Merlin to nod before moving in, wrapping his arms around Merlin's neck and pulling him in. Merlin breathed through it, slotting his arms around Arthur's middle and pressing close. Arthur was so warm, so calm, so steady. And Merlin was trembling, clutching, imploding.

Merlin didn't know how much time past before he realised he had his face buried in Arthur's neck. He was breathing Arthur in, letting Arthur's scent ground him, floating back to reality to the smell of sun lotion and grass and shampoo and something else, something deeper, something too integral to be described.

He was feeling better, though. The slow breaths of Arthur were calming him, soothing him, assuaging every emotion storming through him.

Merlin lifted his head, meaning to apologise for losing himself like that, and Arthur kissed him.

It was slow, warm, hesitant, and Merlin didn't lose it. He melted instead, taking in Arthur's taste, the feel of his lips, the drag of his tongue, the quiet sounds of his pleasure.

"All right?" Arthur asked, breaking the kiss far too soon.

"All right," Merlin confirmed.

Arthur smiled and took a step back. He looked Merlin over, assessing the situation, and nodded, pleased with whatever he saw. He held out his hand, and Merlin took it without hesitation.

Arthur led him over to the sofa. He sat first, pulling Merlin down next to him, and then he wrapped one arm around Merlin's shoulders, forcing Merlin to snuggle up closer.

"How's this?" Arthur asked.

Merlin's side was alight with proximity to Arthur's, but he wasn't overwhelmed by it. He liked it. He liked the sensation of being close, of being warm, of being together.

"This is good," Merlin said, leaning into Arthur's embrace. "Sorry for having a complete freak out."

Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin's hair. "It's all right. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"I am." Merlin reached up and took Arthur's hand off his shoulder, holding it instead, lacing their fingers together.

Arthur used his free hand to take Merlin's chin and guide his head until they could kiss again. Merlin leaned up into it, twisting around to get closer, to get a better angle. Arthur moved his hand to Merlin's hair, and Merlin gasped, shivers rolling down his spine.

"Good?" Arthur asked, barely moving away from the kiss.

"More," Merlin said, and Arthur added his other hand to Merlin's hair. He tugged a little, and Merlin moaned against Arthur's lips, still wanting more, wanting all of it. He felt alive again—in the best way, not the terrifying way—and he wanted everything Arthur was willing to give.

"Slow down," Arthur said when Merlin shifted up to straddle his lap.

"I've wasted enough time," Merlin said, getting his own hands into Arthur's hair.

"We'll go at your pace," Arthur promised.

Merlin nodded, feeling secure, feeling safe, feeling known as Arthur's hands moved to his back. He kissed Arthur again, giving it everything he had, and let the feelings overtake him.


End file.
